Engulfed
by Ieyre
Summary: “Nothing has changed between us, Ursa…” A bereft mother and wife is captured and returned to her home, the palace of the Fire Nation, on her husband's wish. But to what purpose...? PostDOBS, Ursai.


This fic was written for, inspired and dedicated to my dear friend Typhie, who lamented with me about the lack of good Ozai/Ursa fic out there in this world. It is also dedicated to the good folks in capslockATLA, who enjoy naked Ozai more than is probably healthy. This is my first attempt at writing smut, as well as the first bit of fanfiction I've written in a _while_, so bear with me. There are spoilers for 'Day of Black Sun' and this will most likely become AU as season 3 progresses.

I do not own 'Avatar: the Last Airbender'. Or, 'The Legend of Aang'. Whichever you prefer.

* * *

"Your travels have not changed you much, Ursa. You look the same as ever."

Ursa heard him speak for the first time since he had been crowned and she had been exiled. He sat upon his thrown as if he had been born to, with the same air of arrogance and nobility he had always had. Except for the hairpiece that marked him as the lord of the land, his handsome face had not changed at all. His eyes still held the cold, cruel glint that had been passed onto their daughter.

"I am world-weary, Ozai. Even if I look the same, I am no longer the wife you knew years ago. I'm no longer _your_ wife at all."

She did not know why he had brought her back now, after all this time. Ursa was exiled for treason, and even many years later, Ozai had not sought her out. Only a few days ago, the soldiers of the Fire Nation had been sent out to the four corners of the world looking for her, on a secret warrant. The Admiral who had captured her in the Earth Kingdom told her that her husband wanted her captured and returned to the palace swiftly and quietly. What she wanted most to know was _why. _Why now? After all this time, why would he want her back in his palace?

"You will be _mine _until you the day you die, Ursa. And most would be afraid not to address me by title."

The Fire Lord stood up and walked through the flames in front of his elaborate throne towards his wife. The guard who put her in the room had forced her to kneel with reverence, but she could not help looking up. She could now see him more clearly as he paced in front of her.

"I'm sorry I don't take your title as seriously as you do, but since you wouldn't have it if not for me, maybe you should address _me_ with more respect, my _lord._"

He stopped, directly in front of her, and laughed at her rudeness.

"You did always have a sharp and insolent tongue. Perhaps that is where your son gets it from…"

At the mention of the prince, Ursa stood up.

"Where is Zuko? What have you done with Zuko? Tell me!" she yelled hysterically, beating her fists against his chest like a child.

"I've done nothing to him!" Ozai snatched her wrist out of the air and held it fast. Physically at his mercy, Ursa couldn't help but stare into his face. She had forgotten how much taller he was than her, how much thinly veiled power was behind his smooth features. He looked down at her with raw possession, and she shivered. Ozai lingeringly caressed her wrist, ran his thumb down over it, and images of them together years ago ran through her mind. He always started off with touching her hands, then her arms…

"Let go of me." She tried to pull away, and he let her struggle a moment before letting go. She stumbled and almost fell, and he laughed again.

"Nothing _has_ changed between us, Ursa…"

"What have you done to Zuko?"

Ozai turned his face from her now up righted self, and gazed above the flames, at his throne.

"I told you I've done nothing to him. He's left of his own accord. Gone off on some ridiculous crusade my brother has put him up to. He's a little idealistic fool…you would be proud of him, if you'd heard the things he said to me."

"So he's alive." she said, slumping forward, relief overtaking her body.

The moment the words left her lips, he turned his head around to look at her.

"He really has become just like you…I've told him you're alive. He's probably out there in the world, looking for you as we speak."

"So, that's why you've had me brought back here. To use me as collateral against your own son? Or simply to slow him down, to waste his time looking for me?"

She was in front of him now; furiously angry and looking just as lovely as she had ever looked. Her travel clothing was Earth Kingdom style, and even as she verbally chastised him for his treatment of their son in his own throne room, the Fire Lord couldn't help but think how poor they looked on her. She was his princess, his Ursa, and she was meant for fine silks, not roughly hewn cloth. He already had a whole new wardrobe being made for her, and he couldn't wait to get her out of those rags and into something more…suitable.

Actually, he was starting to think that she was meant for no clothing at all.

"No one knows me as well as you, Ursa." He grinned, almost impetuously, at her. "Even Azula would have taken a moment longer to work it out. Actually, I need you back here for both reasons."

"So the rumors are true, then? You've further corrupted your daughter?"

"Our daughter, little one, _our _daughter. She may be like me in spirit, but she inherits her great beauty from you."

He spoke more and more familiarly with her, and his voice was smooth and rich. Ursa narrowed her eyes at this renewed use of charm. His lack of formality put her on edge—what did he want? He called her 'little one'; his pet name for her when they were first married. The manner of speaking was what he would use with her only when they were very, very alone. She was tempted to turn and check that the guards were still in place at the door.

"That is the only thing she gets from me, I can assure you. In all other respects she is every bit yours and always has been." She spat back at him, voice laced with bitterness. They were in such close proximity that open hostility was her best defense short of walking away from him entirely.

"I'm not sure about that, Ursa. Azula fights like a wild animal when cornered, and I rather think it's something she inherited from you…my minx." Ozai chuckled lowly.

She flushed at his double meaning. Why was he stirring up feelings of embarrassment, of _modesty,_ in her now? He already had complete control of her fate, and she hated the idea of him having control of anything else more…personal.

She walked away from him, avoiding eye contact, pretending to look at a scroll on the wall. This amused him further—did she think she could escape him?

"Is it true she single-handedly captured Ba Sing Se? " The image in her mind of her daughter at age nine fit with what she imagined her as now—cruel and systematic.

"She had some help from her brother. You should be proud of our children, little one—even if Zuko is foolish, with weak ideals I can thank my brother for, he at least did one thing right."

He stepped next to her to look at the scroll. They were side by side, and Ursa realized they must look like a normal married couple from behind.

"What do you intend to do now, Fire Lord Ozai?"

The question was one of genuine curiosity. Ursa couldn't possibly fathom what Ozai would do with her now. Throw her in a dungeon? Have her sent away again? No, he would want her close by…tortured, for information? Her mind frantically went over every likely scenario. Would he have her killed?

"Immediately? Or, do you mean continuously? By the way, I enjoy your daring not to call me by my title, Ursa; don't stop now. It's so refreshing to have someone not groveling at my feet for once. I believe I'm starting to understand why my father disliked me so thoroughly. As to your question, I have no intention of telling you my plans for the future of _my _kingdom. What's the point, since there's nothing you can do while you're under my immediate…control." He allowed himself an indulgent smile. "Immediately I intend to bring you to your quarters."

"Take me where I am to live, you mean?"

Ozai's eyes were bright, and Ursa understood what prey must feel like. With every word he spoke, the shark in him shone through brighter and brighter. Ursa realized at that moment there was another possible fate for herself she had not thought to consider.

"We both know it's your own fate that interests you, Ursa. I know your mind, little one. You think you are an enigma to me, and I to you—but we understand each other completely. I always know what you are thinking. Even now…from your face, I can guess what you are thinking about."

She flushed again. The monarch grabbed her arm swiftly and led her with a vice-like grip out of the throne room. She expected him to take her to guards, to be led away and out the doors and to the royal prison. Instead he took her deeper and deeper into the palace, past rooms she recognized; Zuko and Azula's nursery, Iroh's private parlor, the royal ballroom…all of them held so many memories.

The journey did not last very long. Her husband stopped abruptly in front of an elaborate door. It took her a moment to recognize the ornate dragon carved into the golden handle. This room…this was the scene of her most vile acts, the place where the most desperate measures we taken to ensure her son's safety.

The Firelord's private sanctuary. His bedchambers.

Ozai swiftly pushed open the doors and dragged her inside. Even though Ursa had been inside a grand total of one time, the memory stuck out so vividly in her mind that she could remember every detail of the ornate antechamber. The decadence and excess of the Fire Nation could be characterized by this single room. The bed was a huge, four-poster affair…she shut her eyes at a memory. _That bed…_

"Why have you brought me to your chamber? Do you want to remind me of my shame, my treason?"

"Not at all, wife. I want you to see your new living quarters." His voice was oddly quiet, calm, but there was an anticipatory tension as well. It was one she recognized. She opened her eyes to stare at that vast bed once again…so huge, so…so clearly designed for more than one person to warm it.

Ursa's body temperature rose.

"Surely you do not mean-"

"Agni, Ursa, do you know how much I've missed you?"

Ozai descended upon her, roughly grabbed her arms and whispered in her ear.

"Do you know that I roll over at night, longing for you? I have tried every manner of woman since you were banished…every whore in this city has been with me, and every time I roll over, wanting. Wanting _you._"

Ozai eyes glinted dangerously, his voice was low and Ursa felt her heart begin to race, voice caught in her throat. Ozai always got what he wanted with ease, the anger and frustration at not attaining something showed in every movement.

"None but you can satisfy me, Ursa, and now that you are back with me I will not let you go again."

She closed her eyes, enhaling his scent, and felt her body respond to it. _Agni, how I've missed this…_

The chemistry between them, the passion, the _inferno_ that had been building up from years apart meant neither could stand it any longer. Ozai looked down at Ursa, flushed and breathing unsteady, and remembered the restraint he had shown in the throne room. It was all the usually controlled monarch could do to keep himself from running through the flames and taking her right on the floor of the great hall, in front of the guards.

He kissed her, hard, and she immediately responded. She was never able to fight him once he had his mind set on taking her. Her flighty attempts to play "hard-to-get" during their courtship had been met with aggressive declarations of desire and lingering, possessive kisses.

He'd never wanted his princess more than this moment. This was passionate and angry and she could barely breath. Ozai did everything with self-evident arrogance, and love-making was no different. He was ruthless and invasive and made Ursa feel alive and real.

She felt herself being lifted into the air, still being kissed, and lain on the Fire Lord's bed. The action was gentle, almost, and so very out of character that she opened her eyes in surprise. It was then she realized that Ozai had stopped kissing her and left the bed. He was lifting up what appeared to be metal grates on the side of the massive four-poster.

"What are you doing?" Ursa felt her senses coming back to her. She couldn't have fallen back into his arms again so easily, could she?

"I'll show you." He said, lifting up the last to reveal a narrow channel around the entire bed. He sat down on silk coverlet next to her, and immediately giant flames sprung up around the entire massive four-poster, giving the impression of a fiery curtain and completely trapping them.

"I didn't want us to be disturbed for quite a while. Erotic, isn't it?"

Ursa scrambled to the far end of the bed, futilely trying to evade him.

"You can't do this, Ozai. You can't trap me here using your firebending!"

The words rang false in her ears. He frowned, anger showing on his face. The flames around them shot up for a fraction of a second.

"That was never my intention, Ursa. I don't need flames to keep you here, I'm strong enough to keep you here all by myself."

Suddenly he was on top of her, completely pinning her to the bed, hands on both her wrists. Ursa tried to struggle but couldn't even budge. Her husband spoke slowly, calculating and cruel.

"I don't need to do this, even, little minx. Stop fighting it; you know you want this just as much as I do. You haven't been with a man since you left me; have you, my little one…?" His grip tightened.

"Stop it, Ozai. Too much has changed between-"

The flames around them shot up again.

"Changed? _Changed?_ Tell me about your men, Ursa. Tell me about your many lovers, these Earth Kingdom men."

Ursa moaned as she felt Ozai's arousal against her leg. This loss of control to him, Agni, it felt so right, so natural…she wanted to fight it so badly, she knew she must fight it for her own sanity…

"I won't tell you about them, except that there were many-!"

The flames shot even higher. Ozai was losing control, but the more incensed he got, the greater his desire to take this woman grew. He wanted all of her, mind, body and soul, he wanted her very will at his command…

"Don't lie to me! Tell me. There were no men, were there?" He was squeezing tighter, he knew he was hurting her. He wanted to hurt her, to make her feel his pain, but more than that, he wanted her to feel his desire…

"I…I, there-"

"I command you to tell me the truth!"

She tried to break free, but he was too strong…there was too much raw power in him, she was too weak, he dominated her very self. She wanted to lie, she wanted to hurt him, make him think he meant nothing to her, but she couldn't do it.

"THERE WAS NO ONE!" she screamed.

Ozai laughed triumphantly, eyes growing even darker with desire and masculine pride.

"I knew there was no one…" he whispered harshly into her ear, "And I know the reason why, too." He nipped her ear lobe and delighted in the surprised gasp it elicited.

"Ozai, please…stop…"

"I want to hear you say the reason why, Ursa. Tell me why you never took a lover." He moved from her ear to her neck, and nipped and kissed the tender flesh slowly, lazily, pausing at the sensitive spot beneath her ear, to give it extra attention.

"Oh…_Agni_, Ozai, stop!" she protested weakly, barely able to contain a groan of pleasure. "There wasn't a reason-"

"I want to hear you say it, minx. Tell me why you have never been with another man." He sucked on the flesh at the nape of her neck. "Tell your Fire Lord. He commands you to say it."

"I was-_ah, please-_I was a married woman, that was why-" Ursa panted out, hardly coherent. Ozai lifted his head, took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him.

"Don't lie. You don't want me to stop, and you've never looked at another man."

She stared up into his eyes, utterly mesmerized; knowing every word he said was true.

"You belong to me, Ursa. You're _mine._ Admit it…I want to hear you say it." He let go of her chin, instead gripping her wrists tightly, and she could feel the flames around her rise, just as she could feel the warmth inside her, her arousal, rising with every caress, every touch, however harsh and uncaring.

"Stop it, you're hurting me Ozai!" she cried out. Pain and pleasure, mixed and mingling, the line between them so blurry that she could no longer tell the difference: that was their dynamic.

"You deserve this pain, Ursa. It's your punishment for lying to your lord and master." He grazed her neck slowly with his teeth, tantalizingly down her collar bone and to the neck of her dress. He stopped, abruptly, where her dress started. "What have we here…?" he muttered to himself. "I would have never thought…"

He ripped open her collar.

If she waited any longer, she knew she'd never be able to say it. She wanted to make him angry, to make him hurt her, even…anything to stop this from continuing. To stop herself from wanting it to continue.

"I _hate _you, Ozai!" Ursa choked out.

Neither one moved for a second. Ursa closed her eyes, braced herself, expecting him to hurt her for her pronouncement. The flames never came, though. Instead, she felt a gentle tugging at her neck. Surprised, she opened her eyes and gasped.

Ozai ran his fingers over the chain around her neck. It was made of purest silver, in a humble design, with a brilliant ruby in the center. Ozai simply stared at it. Then his eyes widened. He looked up at his wife.

"If you hate me, Ursa…why are you wearing this?" He tugged harshly on the necklace, forcing her head up.

He'd given it to her. He'd given it to her that night…the first time he'd taken her. She was in her father's house, in her chambers, thinking about the arrogant second-born prince she'd met at that party, about his glances, which were enough to make any self-respecting maid blush. She was ashamed, because she enjoyed his looks, his banter, his arm around her waist as they danced…and suddenly, he was in the room. He snuck in, in the middle of the night. He brought a bottle of wine, and this necklace. He clasped it around her neck, told her that it marked her as his. Before she knew it she was wearing nothing but the necklace, and there was only Ozai and heat and their two bodies pressed together and she was his, she _did _belong to him. All of it was flooding back to her now, and she could see in his eyes that he was remembering that night as well…

She hadn't taken off the necklace. She hadn't forgotten.

She knew she could never escape from him. He'd made her his, he'd molded her, he'd stamped her with his mark and that would never leave her.

"I…I could never love another." The flames shot up again. "_Agni_, Ozai, you know! You know it, why do you torture me?"

"It will all end soon, little one. Just…say the reason. Say why you never took another man." His voice was low, full of desire again.

"Because…" Her eyes welled up. "Because…I belong to you." The dam burst. She cried, and whether it was from desire, terror, fear, sorrow or joy she did not know herself. Ozai growled headily, elated at the admission of the truth he had known from the beginning. He lowered his head over hers and whispered in her ear.

"Tell me what you want, Ursa."

"I want…I want you to take me, Ozai."

He took her mouth again, and triumphantly and savagely began to plunder it. Just like Omashu, just like Ba Sing Se, he was a conqueror here. She fought back, their tongues fiercely intertwined in a battle of their own, until his will won out and she moaned in masochistic pleasure. He ran his tongue over every surface of her mouth, groaning in response.

He pulled back, suddenly. Ursa opened her eyes in surprise, and just as suddenly, her husband pulled the rough tunic over her head and threw it through the flames and onto the floor. Now exposed, the movement revealed the rough, brown peasant bodice that had been hidden by her bulky and unseemly travel clothing.

Ozai lazily ran his hands over her newly exposed flash, across the thinly covered peaks of her breasts and back down to the soft plane of her stomach. Her figure had ripened with age, and what had once been a tiny, lithe woman was fuller—her hips had widened after childbirth, of course, but her breasts were larger and her legs more shapely.

"This is all mine." He said, huskily, putting both hands on her stomach. Ursa could feel her heart pounding even faster with anticipation.

"Fire Lord Ozai is even more arrogant than Prince Ozai. Will the wonders never cease?" she breathed out. He gave a small laugh.

"Justified arrogance, Ursa. This _is _all mine. Perhaps a demonstration would better illustrate the point…?"

He didn't wait for an answer, instead raising both hands to her bodice and ripping it neatly in half. Ursa had no more than a second to marvel at his skill before he was running his hands over her breasts and there was nothing else she wanted to think about. He made it so there was nothing else she _could_ think about.

Lowering his head, he flicked out his tongue and ran it over one overly sensitized nub, slowly curving his tongue around the peak in a moment of pure eroticism. After finishing the motion on the first one, he moved onto the other, lifting up his hand to cup and massage the neglected breast at the same time. Ursa bit her lip, trying to suppress the noises of pleasure that were just barely on her lips. She wanted him to take her, and paradoxically was fighting him with all her might. Her body could physically respond to his, she had no control over that…but she could still lie to herself that this was all physical, that emotions weren't involved…

Ozai wouldn't allow that-- her husband could fight dirty when it came to her emotions, and her devotion. Finishing his tongue's little dance on her left breast, his brain registered the tremor of a repressed shudder. She was holding back—_Well, this will not do. _He wanted the emotional response along with the physical.

Ozai's mouth stopped working their magic. Ursa, breathing heavily, opened her eyes again. Ozai was staring at her face, and his own expression seemed to be…appealing to her? In a flash he was grinning, wolfishly, again, and lowered himself to the breast, taking it fully into his mouth.

And he began to suckle it.

Slowly, gently…not the usual Ozai at all. In fact, she could liken it most to the memories of her children suckling at her breast. And, there, suddenly, she felt a tidal wave of emotions—the joy of her children, the happiness she'd felt mothering them came flooding back to her, as her husband made that simple motion she knew he was doing it on purpose. He was reminding her.

Ozai…he'd given them to her. They were his gift to her, they were her world and for whatever selfish reasons he'd wanted them and however wrong he'd gone in raising them, he made them what they were. And she would always owe him something. She would always love him for it…

Suddenly this gentle sucking was the most erotic, most pleasure-consuming thing he had ever done.

Ozai eagerly suckled more fiercely on her breast, faster, and Ursa found what little self-control she'd retained melting away. She wanted him badly, she couldn't take these damned head games any longer. As he pulled back to start on the other breast, she sat up and completely caught him off guard when she started violently tugging on his heavy robes.

"Ursa, what-"

"Will you take off these damned—these—"

Ozai caught both her wrists again, smirking at her eagerness and vivacity.

"I've never known you to be so impatient, Ursa." His tone of voice indicated that he found the personality switch pleasing. "Nor have I ever known you to be so openly wanton."

"I haven't been with you for so…_please_, husband. I need this." Ursa traced his chest underneath the fine silk. "I know you want it as well…"

Ozai's eyes gleamed, and assenting, he quickly drew his royal garb over his head, leaving his chest bare, gleaming from the glow of the fire. Ursa's eyes shot open—her husband hadn't lost any of the smooth, taut muscles that gave him his panther-like air. She reached out to trace her fingers over the hard muscles-

Ozai no longer allowed for tenderness. Rapidly he closed the distance between them, crushing her mouth against his, pressing their nearly naked bodies against each other. Ursa could feel the sparse but wirey body hair against her breasts and the heat building up underneath her sparse undergarments.

Ozai's hands followed the path of her body, caressing from the tips of her breasts, down to her stomach and below. The princess felt the Fire Lord's long and slender fingers slowly peel off the last of her garments, leaving her flushed and fully naked, writhing in ecstasy on the bed. Her husband delighted in his ability to produce the response—to give her so much pleasure that she would be begging him by the end of it. She was his wife, and she had been apart from him, out of his control.

Now to reclaim her.

He stood up on the bed, removing his own silk undergarments, very quickly, so that when his woman opened her eyes again he was naked and his entire body on full display in front of her. She stared at his full erection, imagining the pleasure and wild fulfillment she had felt in his arms so many times before, in the final act.

"It's rude to stare." He lowered himself and pulled her close, pressing his arousal against her, making her gasp. "If you want something, just say it." His fingers stroked her thigh, up to the hair at the apex, hovering at her mound. Suddenly they dipped into the hot core,causing her to release a cry out in shock.

As soon as he had released a bit of the tension, he pulled out. Ursa made a noise of displeasure.

"Ozai, stop…teasing!" she moaned out, as he nipped at her neck again. "You know what I _really _want."

"What is that? Tell me, Ursa…" The pride and arrogance in his voice shown as brightly as the fire engulfing them. "Beg me."

Suddenly the heat was oppressive, it was building with the same speed as her desire for him; it was engulfing her, just as her desire for Ozai was. She could only bend to the will of the fire, the fire was her master, the fire was her protector…

She was the fire's slave.

"I beg you…I want you inside of me. I tried to fight it, but…I'll go insane if you don't. Please…my lord, my husband…take me."

Without saying a word Ozai spread Ursa's yielding body onto the bed. He knew she was totally his again in mind, and he would have to make her his again in body.

He separated her legs, and placed himself above her, letting his engorged manhood tease the tip of her entrance. Ursa looked up into his golden eyes, lidded with lust and anticipation. He looked back at her, and opened his mouth to whisper something she didn't understand at all.

"Ursa…welcome home."

And in a moment of monumental control and furious power, he thrust into her.

Ursa's breath caught in her throat—_Agni, she had forgotten how this felt!_ Ozai moved swiftly, plunging in and out with intense concentration, but not with the brute force he had always employed during this act.

With each thrust, the flames rose higher and higher. Ursa's desire mounted in unison with the fire. This was what being ravished by raw power felt like—what being engulfed in flames felt like. The pleasure was immeasurable, with every sleek thrust she cried out his name, begging for more.

He repositioned himself so he could plunge deeper, and as he calculated, re-found Ursa's secret spot. The agony of delight it instilled caused her to cry out internal devotion to him, so he hit the spot precisely every time. The moans and screams of pure pleasure were music to his ears.

Ozai allowed himself to feel the pleasure, too, at last, secure in his victory. Ursa was tight, and he could feel his own needs swelling, his desire to come into her and fully make her his own again exceeding all else.

Suddenly he increased the speed, moving in and out that Ursa felt she was filled with every feeling imaginable; the flames were moving up and down so quickly she thought they were in the center of an inferno, that this was the last moment of life and this delicious friction and union that was increasing and faster and harder was the greatest last moment of life she could imagine.

Her husband released into her, a wave of molten gold, and she could feel herself climax as well. And they screamed together, united fully for once and all time while the flames rose their highest before burning out all together and leaving them both panting and gasping for air on the bed.

Ursa, feeling the weight of exhaustion from the last six years, could only stare up in wonder at her husband. They were both sated, the longing for each other that had been denied and suppressed for so long spilling out in a glorious night. He was so obviously strengthened, the elation shown down on her as he stroked her hair in the hazy afterglow of their union. She pretended the gesture was one of affection and love, rather than that of a glorious battle won.

"You're too handsome for your own good, Ozai." She mumbled sleepily, smiling up at his proud and noble face, with its mercurial expression.

"It's good for seducing women. Aren't you proof of that, little one?" He half-teased, half-taunted her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ozai…you don't need to seduce me. I'm your wife…" Ursa's voice soft voice petered off into sleep. Her husband gazed at her face for a few moments before moving down to another part of her body…

"Soon…hopefully, soon, we'll both get what we want again, little one."

He traced his hand on her stomach before pulling away and surrendering to sleep himself.


End file.
